{
  "schema": "tga.work.v1",
  "identifier": "dresden:vol-11:secularism",
  "slug": "secularism",
  "title": "Secularism",
  "subtitle": "Essay.",
  "excerpt": "A short, clear statement of what secularism is: the doctrine that religious belief should neither be a qualification for nor a disability against citizenship.",
  "year": 1887,
  "volume": 11,
  "category": "Essay",
  "author": {
    "name": "Robert G. Ingersoll",
    "wikidata": "Q360326",
    "viaf": "44331023"
  },
  "isPartOf": {
    "title": "The Works of Robert G. Ingersoll",
    "edition": "Dresden Edition",
    "publisher": "C. P. Farrell",
    "year": 1900
  },
  "license": "https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/",
  "url": "https://thegreatagnostic.com/works/secularism/",
  "wordCount": 3811,
  "body": "SEVERAL people have asked me the meaning of this term.\n\nSecularism is the religion of humanity; it embraces the affairs of this\nworld; it is interested in everything that touches the welfare of a\nsentient being; it advocates attention to the particular planet in which\nwe happen to live; it means that each individual counts for something;\nit is a declaration of intellectual independence; it means that the pew\nis superior to the pulpit, that those who bear the burdens shall have\nthe profits and that they who fill the purse shall hold the strings.\nIt is a protest against theological oppression, against ecclesiastical\ntyranny, against being the serf, subject or slave of any phantom, or of\nthe priest of any phantom. It is a protest against wasting this life for\nthe sake of one that we know not of. It proposes to let the gods take\ncare of themselves. It is another name for common sense; that is to say,\nthe adaptation of means to such ends as are desired and understood.\n\nSecularism believes in building a home here, in this world. It trusts\nto individual effort, to energy, to intelligence, to observation and\nexperience rather than to the unknown and the supernatural. It desires\nto be happy on this side of the grave.\n\nSecularism means food and fireside, roof and raiment, reasonable work\nand reasonable leisure, the cultivation of the tastes, the acquisition\nof knowledge, the enjoyment of the arts, and it promises for the human\nrace comfort, independence, intelligence, and above all, liberty. It\nmeans the abolition of sectarian feuds, of theological hatreds. It means\nthe cultivation of friendship and intellectual hospitality. It means\nthe living for ourselves and each other; for the present instead of\nthe past, for this world rather than for another. It means the right to\nexpress your thought in spite of popes, priests, and gods. It means that\nimpudent idleness shall no longer live upon the labor of honest men.\nIt means the destruction of the business of those who trade in fear. It\nproposes to give serenity and content to the human soul. It will put out\nthe fires of eternal pain. It is striving to do away with violence and\nvice, with ignorance, poverty and disease. It lives for the ever present\nto-day, and the ever coming to-morrow. It does not believe in praying\nand receiving, but in earning and deserving. It regards work as worship,\nlabor as prayer, and wisdom as the savior of mankind. It says to every\nhuman being, Take care of yourself so that you may be able to help\nothers; adorn your life with the gems called good deeds; illumine your\npath with the sunlight called friendship and love.\n\nSecularism is a religion, a religion that is understood. It has no\nmysteries, no mummeries, no priests, no ceremonies, no falsehoods, no\nmiracles, and no persecutions. It considers the lilies of the field, and\ntakes thought for the morrow. It says to the whole world, Work that you\nmay eat, drink, and be clothed; work that you may enjoy; work that you\nmay not want; work that you may give and never need.—The Independent\nPulpit, Waco, Texas, 1887.\n\nCriticism of \"robert Elsmere,\" \"john Ward, Preacher,\" and \"an African Farm.\"\n\nIF one wishes to know what orthodox religion really is—I mean that\nreligion unsoftened by Infidelity, by doubt—let him read \"John Ward,\nPreacher.\" This book shows exactly what the love of God will do in the\nheart of man. This shows what the effect of the creed of Christendom is,\nwhen absolutely believed. In this case it is the woman who is free\nand the man who is enslaved. In \"Robert Els-mere\" the man is breaking\nchains, while the woman prefers the old prison with its ivy-covered\nwalls.\n\nWhy should a man allow human love to stand between his soul and the\nwill of God—between his soul and eternal joy? Why should not the true\nbeliever tear every blossom of pity, of charity, from his heart, rather\nthan put in peril his immortal soul?\n\nAn orthodox minister has a wife with a heart. Having a heart she cannot\nbelieve in the orthodox creed. She thinks God better than he is. She\nflatters the Infinite. This endangers the salvation of her soul. If she\nis upheld in this the souls of others may be lost. Her husband feels not\nonly accountable for her soul, but for the souls of others that may\nbe injured by what she says, and by what she does. He is compelled to\nchoose between his wife and his duty, between the woman and God. He is\nnot great enough to go with his heart. He is selfish enough to side with\nthe administration, with power. He lives a miserable life and dies a\nmiserable death.\n\nThe trouble with Christianity is that it has no element of\ncompromise—it allows no room for charity so far as belief is concerned.\nHonesty of opinion is not even a mitigating circumstance. You are not\nasked to understand—you are commanded to believe. There is no common\nground. The church carries no flag of truce. It does not say, Believe\nyou must, but, You must believe. No exception can be made in favor of\nwife or mother, husband or child. All human relations, all human love\nmust, if necessary, be sacrificed with perfect cheerfulness. \"Let the\ndead bury their dead—follow thou me. Desert wife and child. Human love\nis nothing—nothing but a snare. You must love God better than wife,\nbetter than child.\" John Ward endeavored to live in accordance with this\nheartless creed.\n\nNothing can be more repulsive than an orthodox life—than one who lives\nin exact accordance with the creed. It is hard to conceive of a more\nterrible character than John Calvin. It is somewhat difficult to\nunderstand the Puritans, who made themselves unhappy by way of\nrecreation, and who seemed to enjoy themselves when admitting their\nutter worthlessness and in telling God how richly they deserved to be\neternally damned. They loved to pluck from the tree of life every bud,\nevery blossom, every leaf. The bare branches, naked to the wrath of God,\nexcited their admiration. They wondered how birds could sing, and the\nexistence of the rainbow led them to suspect the seriousness of the\nDeity. How can there be any joy if man believes that he acts and lives\nunder an infinite responsibility, when the only business of this life\nis to avoid the horrors of the next? Why should the lips of men feel\nthe ripple of laughter if there is a bare possibility that the creed of\nChristendom is true?\n\nI take it for granted that all people believe as they must—that all\nthoughts and dreams have been naturally produced—that what we call the\nunnatural is simply the uncommon. All religions, poems, statues, vices\nand virtues, have been wrought by nature with the instrumentalities\ncalled men. No one can read \"John Ward, Preacher,\" without hating with\nall his heart the creed of John Ward; and no one can read the creed of\nJohn Ward, preacher, without pitying with all his heart John Ward; and\nno one can read this book without feeling how much better the wife was\nthan the husband—how much better the natural sympathies are than the\nreligions of our day, and how much superior common sense is to what is\ncalled theology.\n\nWhen we lay down the book we feel like saying: No matter whether God\nexists or not; if he does, he can take care of himself; if he does, he\ndoes not take care of us; and whether he lives or not we must take care\nof ourselves. Human love is better than any religion. It is better to\nlove your wife than to love God. It is better to make a happy home here\nthan to sunder hearts with creeds. This book meets the issues far more\nfrankly, with far greater candor. This book carries out to its logical\nsequence the Christian creed. It shows how uncomfortable a true believer\nmust be, and how uncomfortable he necessarily makes those with whom he\ncomes in contact. It shows how narrow, how hard, how unsympathetic,\nhow selfish, how unreasonable, how unpoetic, the creed of the orthodox\nchurch is.\n\nIn \"Robert Elsmere\" there is plenty of evidence of reading and\ncultivation, of thought and talent. So in \"John Ward, Preacher,\" there\nis strength, purpose, logic, power of statement, directness and courage.\nBut \"The Story of an African Farm\" has but little in common with the\nother two.\n\nIt is a work apart—belonging to no school, and not to be judged by the\nordinary rules and canons of criticism. There are some puerilities and\nmuch philosophy, trivialities and some of the profoundest reflections.\nIn addition to this, there is a vast and wonderful sympathy.\n\nThe following upon love is beautiful and profound: \"There is a love that\nbegins in the head and goes down to the heart, and grows slowly, but it\nlasts till death and asks less than it gives. There is another love that\nblots out wisdom, that is sweet with the sweetness of life and bitter\nwith the bitterness of death, lasting for an hour; but it is worth\nhaving lived a whole life for that hour. It is a blood-red flower, with\nthe color of sin, but there is always the scent of a god about it.\"\n\nThere is no character in \"Robert Elsmere\" or in \"John Ward, Preacher,\"\ncomparable for a moment to Lyndall in the \"African Farm.\" In her there\nis a splendid courage. She does not blame others for her own faults;\nshe accepts. There is that splendid candor that you find in Juliet in\n\"Measure for Measure.\" She is asked:\n\n\"Love you the man that wronged you?\"\n\nAnd she replies:\n\n\"Yes; as I love the woman that wronged him.\"\n\nThe death of this wonderful girl is extremely pathetic.\n\nNone but an artist could have written it:\n\n\"Then slowly, without a sound, the beautiful eyes closed. The dead\nface that the glass reflected was a thing of marvellous beauty and\ntranquillity. The gray dawn crept in over it and saw it lying there.\"\n\nSo the story of the hunter is wonderfully told. This hunter climbs above\nhis fellows—day by day getting away from human sympathy, away from\nignorance. He lost at last his fellow-men, and truth was just as far\naway as ever. Here he found the bones of another hunter, and as he\nlooked upon the poor remains the wild faces said:\n\n\"So he lay down here, for he was very tired. He went to sleep forever.\nHe put himself to sleep. Sleep is very tranquil. You are not lonely when\nyou are asleep, neither do your hands ache nor your heart.\"\n\nSo the death of Waldo is most wonderfully told. The book is filled with\nthought, and with thoughts of the writer—nothing is borrowed. It is\noriginal, true and exceedingly sad. It has the pathos of real life.\nThere is in it the hunger of the heart, the vast difference between the\nactual and the ideal:\n\n\"I like to feel that strange life beating up against me. I like to\nrealize forms of life utterly unlike my own. When my own life feels\nsmall and I am oppressed with it, I like to crush together and see it in\na picture, in an instant, a multitude of disconnected, unlike phases of\nhuman life—a mediaeval monk with his string of beads pacing the quiet\norchard, and looking up from the grass at his feet to the heavy fruit\ntrees; little Malay boys playing naked on a shining sea-beach; a Hindoo\nphilosopher alone under his banyan tree, thinking, thinking, thinking,\nso that in the thought of God he may lose himself; a troop of\nBacchanalians dressed in white, with crowns of vine-leaves, dancing\nalong the Roman streets; a martyr on the night of his death looking\nthrough the narrow window to the sky and feeling that already he has the\nwings that shall bear him up; an epicurean discoursing at a Roman\nbath to a knot of his disciples on the nature of happiness; a Kafir\nwitch-doctor seeking for herbs by moonlight, while from the huts on\nthe hillside come the sound of dogs barking and the voices of women\nand children; a mother giving bread and milk to her children in little\nwooden basins and singing the evening song. I like to see it all; I\nfeel it run through me—that life belongs to me; it makes my little life\nlarger, it breaks down the narrow walls that shut me in.\"\n\nThe author, Olive Schreiner, has a tropic zone in her heart. She\nsometimes prattles like a child, then suddenly, and without warning, she\nspeaks like a philosopher—like one who had guessed the riddle of the\nSphinx. She, too, is overwhelmed with the injustice of the world—with\nthe negligence of nature—and she finds that it is impossible to find\nrepose for heart or brain in any Christian creed.\n\nThese books show what the people are thinking—the tendency of modern\nthought. Singularly enough the three are written by women. Mrs. Ward,\nthe author of \"Robert Elsmere,\" to say the least is not satisfied with\nthe Episcopal Church. She feels sure that its creed is not true. At the\nsame time, she wants it denied in a respectful tone of voice, and she\nreally pities people who are compelled to give up the consolation of\neternal punishment, although she has thrown it away herself and the\ntendency of her book is to make other people do so. It is what the\northodox call \"a dangerous book.\" It is a flank movement calculated\nto suggest a doubt to the unsuspecting reader, to some sheep who has\nstrayed beyond the shepherd's voice.\n\nIt is hard for any one to read \"John Ward, Preacher,\" without hating\nPuritanism with all his heart and without feeling certain that nothing\nis more heartless than the \"scheme of salvation;\" and whoever finishes\n\"The Story of an African Farm\" will feel that he has been brought in\ncontact with a very great, passionate and tender soul. Is it possible\nthat women, who have been the Caryatides of the church, who have borne\nits insults and its burdens, are to be its destroyers?\n\nMan is a being capable of pleasure and pain. The fact that he can enjoy\nhimself—that he can obtain good—gives him courage—courage to defend\nwhat he has, courage to try to get more. The fact that he can suffer\npain sows in his mind the seeds of fear. Man is also filled with\ncuriosity. He examines. He is astonished by the uncommon. He is forced\nto take an interest in things because things affect him. He is liable at\nevery moment to be injured. Countless things attack him. He must defend\nhimself. As a consequence his mind is at work; his experience in some\ndegree tells him what may happen; he prepares; he defends himself from\nheat and cold. All the springs of action lie in the fact that he can\nsuffer and enjoy. The savage has great confidence in his senses. He\nhas absolute confidence in his eyes and ears. It requires many years of\neducation and experience before he becomes satisfied that things are\nnot always what they appear. It would be hard to convince the average\nbarbarian that the sun does not actually rise and set—hard to convince\nhim that the earth turns. He would rely upon appearances and would\nrecord you as insane.\n\nAs man becomes civilized, educated, he finally has more confidence in\nhis reason than in his eyes. He no longer believes that a being called\nEcho exists. He has found out the theory of sound, and he then knows\nthat the wave of air has been returned to his ear, and the idea of a\nbeing who repeats his words fades from his mind; he begins then to\nrely, not upon appearances, but upon demonstration, upon the result of\ninvestigation. At last he finds that he has been deceived in a thousand\nways, and he also finds that he can invent certain instruments that are\nfar more accurate than his senses—instruments that add power to his\nsight, to his hearing and to the sensitiveness of his touch. Day by day\nhe gains confidence in himself.\n\nThere is in the life of the individual, as in the life of the race,\na period of credulity, when not only appearances are accepted without\nquestion, but the declarations of others. The child in the cradle or\nin the lap of its mother, has implicit confidence in fairy\nstories—believes in giants and dwarfs, in beings who can answer wishes,\nwho create castles and temples and gardens with a thought. So the race,\nin its infancy, believed in such beings and in such creations. As the\nchild grows, facts take the place of the old beliefs, and the same is\ntrue of the race.\n\nAs a rule, the attention of man is drawn first, not to his own mistakes,\nnot to his own faults, but to the mistakes and faults of his neighbors.\nThe same is true of a nation—it notices first the eccentricities and\npeculiarities of other nations. This is especially true of religious\nsystems. Christians take it for granted that their religion is true,\nthat there can be about that no doubt, no mistake. They begin to examine\nthe religions of other nations. They take it for granted that all\nthese other religions are false. They are in a frame of mind to notice\ncontradictions, to discover mistakes and to apprehend absurdities. In\nexamining other religions they use their common sense. They carry in the\nhand the lamp of probability. The miracles of other Christs, or of the\nfounders of other religions, appear unreasonable—they find that\nthey are not supported by evidence. Most of the stories excite their\nlaughter. Many of the laws seem cruel, many of the ceremonies absurd.\nThese Christians satisfy themselves that they are right in their first\nconjecture—that is, that other religions are all made by men. Afterward\nthe same arguments they have used against other religions were found to\nbe equally forcible against their own. They find that the miracles of\nBuddha rest upon the same kind of evidence as the miracles in the Old\nTestament, as the miracles in the New—that the evidence in the one case\nis just as weak and unreliable as in the other. They also find that it\nis just as easy to account for the existence of Christianity as for the\nexistence of any other religion, and they find that the human mind in\nall countries has traveled substantially the same road and has arrived\nat substantially the same conclusions.\n\nIt may be truthfully said that Christianity by the examination of other\nreligions laid the foundation for its own destruction. The moment\nit examined another religion it became a doubter, a sceptic, an\ninvestigator. It began to call for proof. This course being pursued in\nthe examination of Christianity itself, reached the result that had been\nreached as to other religions. In other words, it was impossible for\nChristians successfully to attack other religions without showing that\ntheir own religion could be destroyed. The fact that only a few years\nago we were all provincial should be taken into consideration. A few\nyears ago nations were unacquainted with each other—no nation had\nany conception of the real habits, customs, religions and ideas of any\nother. Each nation imagined itself to be the favored of heaven—the only\none to whom God had condescended to make known his will—the only one in\ndirect communication with angels and deities. Since the circumnavigation\nof the globe, since the invention of the steam engine, the discovery of\nelectricity, the nations of the world have become acquainted with each\nother, and we now know that the old ideas were born of egotism, and that\negotism is the child of ignorance and savagery.\n\nThink of the egotism of the ancient Jews, who imagined that they were\n\"the chosen people\"—the only ones in whom God took the slightest\ninterest! Imagine the egotism of the Catholic Church, claiming that it\nis the only church—that it is continually under the guidance of the\nHoly Ghost, and that the pope is infallible and occupies the place of\nGod. Think of the egotism of the Presbyterian, who imagines that he\nis one of \"the elect,\" and that billions of ages before the world was\ncreated, God, in the eternal counsel of his own good pleasure, picked\nout this particular Presbyterian, and at the same time determined to\nsend billions and billions to the pit of eternal pain. Think of\nthe egotism of the man who believes in special providence. The old\nphilosophy, the old religion, was made in about equal parts of ignorance\nand egotism. This earth was the universe. The sun rose and set simply\nfor the benefit of \"God's chosen people.\" The moon and stars were made\nto beautify the night, and all the countless hosts of heaven were for no\nother purpose than to decorate what might be called the ceiling of the\nearth. It was also believed that this firmament was solid—that up there\nthe gods lived, and that they could be influenced by the prayers and\ndesires of men.\n\nWe have now found that the earth is only a grain of sand, a speck, an\natom in an infinite universe. We now know that the sun is a million\ntimes larger than the earth, and that other planets are millions of\ntimes larger than the sun; and when we think of these things, the old\nstories of the Garden of Eden and Sinai and Calvary seem infinitely out\nof proportion.\n\nAt last we have reached a point where we have the candor and the\nintelligence to examine the claims of our own religion precisely as we\nexamine those of other countries. We have produced men and women\ngreat enough to free themselves from the prejudices born of\nprovincialism—from the prejudices, we might almost say, of patriotism.\nA few people are great enough not to be controlled by the ideas of the\ndead—great enough to know that they are not bound by the mistakes of\ntheir ancestors—and that a man may actually love his mother without\naccepting her belief. We have even gone further than this, and we are\nnow satisfied that the only way to really honor parents is to tell our\nbest and highest thoughts. These thoughts ought to be in the mind when\nreading the books referred to. There are certain tendencies, certain\ntrends of thought, and these tendencies—these trends—bear fruit; that\nis to say, they produce the books about which I have spoken as well as\nmany others.\n"
}